How do you do it?
I do it by having to do it.
I do it by setting little checkpoints throughout the day to celebrate making it that far.
I do it by staying up 3 hours after bedtime, no matter how early I have to get up, because I need to soak up the peace and quiet.
I do it with coffee.
I do it by tagging my friends I haven’t spoken to in years when I see a meme that makes me laugh.
I do it by eating cookies before 10am and string cheese in the school pick up line and an entire bag of Cheetos while hiding in the pantry closet.
I do it by leaning on friends and family and teachers and the grocery checkout lady who always has a sticker and a wink for my kids no matter how loud and whiny they are.
I do it when I don’t feel like doing it, when I wish this wasn’t my life, when I have nothing left to give, when I’m sick or in pain or depressed or anxious or grieving.
I do it by skipping pages at story time or saying the toy store is closed even though it isn’t.
I do it by making mistakes and feeling guilty and wanting to give up but strengthening my resolve to keep trying instead.
I do it by standing in the doorway while the lives I created with my heart and soul sleep, releasing the tension in my jaw and inside my chest as I watch them dream their own dreams made up from their own unique hearts and souls.
I do it by savoring little arms around my neck and the smell of baby breath and the sound of “I love you mama.”
I do it by taking a deep breath a hundred times a day and remembering what it’s like not to be a grown up, remembering they are people too, and if it’s a big deal to them, it really is a big deal.
I do it by showering them with praise when they make a good choice, when they’re kind or brave, and when I see them trying their best.
I do it by stopping to drink in their giggles, the smile they can’t hide when they feel proud, the furrow of their brow when they’re focused and interested.
I do it by believing I’ll never do this and would never do that, and learning again and again to never say never, and to never fucking judge anyone.
I do it by sounding like my mother.
I do it by copying Daniel Tiger songs.
I do it with screentime and candy and bribes.
I do it because there is no other choice now. My happiness is forever linked to theirs, for better or worse.
I do it knowing I will let them down and scar them in ways I can’t see and some ways I can but can’t help.
I do it hoping with my whole heart that one day, when they look back at an imperfect life, littered with moments and choices and paths that could have been different, they’ll know I did my best. That I did my best every day, even when it wasn’t good enough, because being their mom is the hardest, most magical, best thing I’ve ever been.
